Something New
by Helen Pattskyn
Summary: Sometimes something new comes into our lives when we least expect it... part of my ongoing AU'verse. Some knowledge of my CoE re-write Now Comes the Night is going to be helpful.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

It really is only fair to get all of this out into the open for you guys to (hopefully) enjoy! (Although I apologize for being kind of all over the place story-wise right now, the Muses are being very sporadic and even a little stingy with Their inspiration lately. I'm still working away at Stars and The Ossuary. I just pulled Stars up this morning to see if I could get a chapter of that up by the end of the week. The Ossuary may also see a chapter up in the next week or so also.)

This one will more of a collection of short scenes than a "story" per se, because I want to cover their entire relationship from the beginning to the "end".

As always reviews are love and seem to keep the Muses happy, even when they're pulling me in several directions at once.

* * *

_Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could.  
Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can.  
Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely  
and with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. _

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

**Prologue:**

.

In 2008, every single person on planet earth had been forced to accept on single, perspective-altering, fact: aliens existed.

What was more, they were hostile.

In the years before the earth was snatched from its orbit by Daleks and returned under bazaar circumstances (to say the least), there had been rumours of aliens. Suspicions. Ideas. Hints.

Roswell.

Area 51.

The pyramids of Mars.

The pyramids in Egypt.

Artefacts allegedly found at the South Pole.

Stonehenge.

Some people even believed that yeti, the Loch Ness monster and bigfoots were really aliens. And no one would discount the fact that London was not a place one wanted to be at Christmas; that city was a magnet for weirdness at the holidays.

No one could discount the "ghosts" that had appeared all over the world the year before the Dalek invasion, either, just before _something_ strange went down in London. Not that many people had access to that information, but those in the intelligence community knew that something _had_ happened, even if the British government was keeping a tight lid on what that something was—just like they had kept a tight lid on other strange and suspicious things that had happened over the years. Decades. Centuries.

But the Brits weren't the only ones with secrets. The US had its fair share as well. Leroy Jethro Gibbs even happened to know a few. But nothing he knew, either through first hand experience or via the proverbial grapevine, could have prepared him for what had happened early September of 2009.

_We are… we are coming… we are coming **back**…_

* * *

**Chapter One:**

**_23 September, 2009_**

**_Ten days after the "departure" of the 456 from Earth _**

**.**

Alice Carter took a breath and let it out. Even though the bevelled glass of her front door, she recognized the outline of the man standing on her porch. Like most of her neighbours, she was slow in letting her life go back to 'normal'—not that _her_ life had ever really been normal. There had been little puddles of normalcy here and there, but… no, she wouldn't call her life normal, not with parents like hers. Her father… he'd called her twice in the last week, 'just to check in on her'—just to ask when he could come by and see her and Steven. She'd told him the same thing both times. She wasn't ready.

What she didn't tell him—what she didn't know how to say—was that she wasn't sure she would ever _be_ ready, that she wished he would just leave her alone.

Each time she got off the phone with him, she found herself feeling guilty. She loved him. But she hated him too—not for what he'd done or not done, but for what he **_was_**. Immortal. Unaging.

_A fixed point in time… _Ianto Jones' words. Ianto Jones-**Harkness** she thought bitterly. She hated him too, although not because he was her father's husband. No, she resented the quiet, too-young Welshman for the easy way he accepted all of the things about her father that bothered her the most, for the ease with which he had seemed to accept her existence as a fact—nothing more, nothing less. She was angry at him for the way he'd been able to talk to her without resentment or malice, something she had been unable to help herself but feel towards him. She hated it that he had stood steadfast next to her father during what had to have been the most difficult moments of his life, deciding whether or not it was worth it to sacrifice his own grandson to save the rest of the children of earth… she hated it that she couldn't love him enough to trust him, trust him enough to love him.

_He didn't ask for this. He was born just as human as you and I, but something happened to him. It can't ever be undone… _

Alice hadn't known it wasn't his fault, her father had never told her, so how _could_ she know? She **_had_** asked once if he was really human, when she first discovered that she was pregnant with Steven. He'd promised her that he was. She hadn't believed him. That had been the first time she'd called him in almost ten years.

She remembered how happy he'd been for her when she told him about being pregnant, how utterly elated he was when she agreed to let him take her out to lunch, spoil her a little. He'd been _so_ supportive…

_He's still human. He still loves. He still gets hurt. He even still dies, he just doesn't stay that way for long—and that hurts too… _he would outlive everybody he knew, everyone he loved, bury them all, just like he'd helped her bury her mother…

Alice took another breath and opened up the front door, forcing a smile at the man standing on the other side. "Did my father send you?" she asked him; despite her best efforts, her tone was chilly. She supposed that even if her father _had_ sent him, he really didn't deserve it. Of all the people she'd met that week, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was probably the one she felt most comfortable with. He was the one that seemed the most normal.

"Nope," he answered her question with an easy, earnest smile.

Alice blinked. She didn't know why she believed him, but she did. "Would you like to come in?" she stepped aside so that he could.

He nodded, wiped his feet off on the mat and came into the entrance hall. "Nice place." He hadn't really looked around.

"Thank you," she said anyway, feeling suddenly a little awkward. After all, if her father hadn't sent Gibbs to talk to her, convince her to let him see Steven…

"Just out of curiosity," the American began, then, "if you dad had sent me, would you still have invited me in?"

"I…I'm not sure," she told him the truth; he just gave over a half-grin.

"Even though he didn't ask me to drop by… "

"Please don't—"

"I'm not," the other assured her. "It's not my place. I was just thinking that after that week, everything we could have lost…"

"I know my father is the dashing hero, Mr Gibbs. He saved the world. It's what he does."

"Ever wonder who he's saving it for?" he gave her a pointed look.

She swallowed hard and found herself unable to fully meet his gaze.

"There's nothing stronger than a father's love for his little girl," he told her in that same sort of quiet tone he'd used when he told her he didn't have children. Again, it made her wonder if he was lying… why…

But again, she didn't press it, offering him a cup of tea, instead. "Or do you prefer coffee?" she asked. Anything to get him off the subject of fathers and daughters.

Gibbs shrugged. "Whatever you're having."

She led the way into the kitchen. "So… if you're not here because of my father…?" she queried over her shoulder, as she set up the coffee pot.

"I wanted to check in on you and Steven, see how you were coping with 'Britain back to normal—for real this time'," he answered her in an earnest tone, although it was obvious the kind of contempt he felt for this week's headlines.

Alice studied him for a moment before speaking again, almost unable to believe that the easiest answer was really the truth. "He went to school today," she said at last. "This is the first time in over a week that I was willing to let him out of my sight. I'm on pins and needles about it."

He nodded, but didn't speak.

"He thinks I'm smothering him," she went on to admit. "He keeps calling me over protective… wondering why I can't just trust his 'uncle' Jack—wondering when I'm going to let him come round…not that… not that he's ever said I'm the reason he doesn't visit, but Steven knows. He just… he knows…" she wrapped her arms around herself, but she still felt cold. "All of his friends were back in school within a couple of days, I… I just couldn't, any more than I can explain to him about… about my father and why I don't trust him." She didn't know why she was telling so much. After all, Jethro Gibbs was a stranger…

But in response to her ramblings, he simply nodded again, stepped a little closer… hesitated, but then placed his hands over her shoulders, warming her. "It must be hard, having a man like Harkness for a father." He sounded sincere.

"You have no idea."

"You're right. I don't."

She smiled, appreciating his honesty.

The coffee was ready.

Alice pulled away, poured two cups. "Milk or sugar?" she asked.

"Just black," he took the cup from her with another one of those smiles. Honest. Open. She doubted that he was really as open and uncomplicated as he came across, but she didn't get the sense that there was any kind duplicity in his nature, either.

"I don't think I ever asked you how you got mixed up in my father's world," Alice said then, gesturing for him to follow her into the lounge where they could sit comfortably.

Gibbs flashed a wry grin and started telling her…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

**The Beginning (pt 2)**

"_Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go;  
be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do."_

Author Unknown

* * *

Alice smiled quietly to herself as her unexpected dinner guest rolled up his shirt sleeves and started loading up the dishwasher—after having asked Steven to 'show him the ropes' (Steven was more than happy to oblige.) Jethro had insisted that since she'd cooked, he would clean up; he'd suggested (hinted… _barely_ hinted, really… it was probably just his way of talking) that next time he'd cook and she could handle KP duty. Alice didn't even know why she felt warm inside at the prospect of there being 'next time'; not four hours ago, she'd been seriously debating whether or not she even wanted to open up the door for Leroy Jethro Gibbs for fear he was there on an errand from her dad.

But after those first few moments her father hadn't come up in conversation again, at least not unless she was the one bringing him up. She'd found herself drifting back to the subject of the invincible, immortal, dashing hero of Captain Jack Harkness more than she'd have liked—at least until Steven got home from school. Before that… she hated to admit it, but Gibbs was easy to talk to. He didn't judge her or look askance at her when she admitted that there were times when she hated her father. Times she loved him. She'd found herself telling a near-complete stranger much more than she'd intended…

"_He never had a harsh word to say about my mum, not even after she tossed him out. Not that I knew she'd tossed him out. She never told me what happened between them. One day he just… he didn't come home one night. They were both still working for Torchwood back then. I remember Mum was…" she had hesitated, not knowing how to explain the state her mother had been in that night. She knew she'd been crying, but...but there was more to it, she was sure there was. "I knew something bad had happened, but she refused to talk about it. She said I was too little to understand and I should just go to bed. The next day Dad came home and… and he told me good-bye. I didn't exactly know it was good-bye at the time, but… but that was the last time I saw him until I was a teenager. Mum wouldn't say why he'd left us. I remember telling her I hated her a few times over it… I cried all that Christmas… Dad always made such a fuss over Christmas, it was my favourite time of year until… well..." she shrugged, embarrassed. She was misty eyed. But Jethro didn't look at her like she was some being some silly, sentimental old thing. He laid a hand on her arm and let her continue on in her own time, seemingly willing to listen to whatever she had to say. _

"_Eventually I stopped asking Mum what happened. I remember being sure he still loved us… it was all very confusing," she'd admitted. "All of my friends with divorced parents still saw their fathers—well, nearly all of them. You know, there were a few who didn't, but… but I was __**sure**__ he still loved us. I don't even know why. Isn't that silly…?" her laugh had been nervous; she didn't usually prattle on._

_However, "no," was all Gibbs had to say about whether or not it was silly to be so convinced that her dad hadn't stopped loving her. "Did you ever find out why he left?" he asked then._

She didn't have an answer for that. Her mum had always been obstinately mute on the subject; she'd never asked her father. She was sure he'd just sugar coat it. She knew well enough now that that's what he'd always done where her mum was concerned.

Jethro rolled his sleeves back down and reached for his jacket. "I should go," he said to her inquisitive look.

"Do you have to?" Steven wanted to know.

He glanced down at the youngster, "I thought you said you had homework left to finish?"

The boy sighed; apparently he'd hoped the adults would forget about the big book report that was due tomorrow. "When are you coming back?" he wanted to know.

"Steven…" Alice began. The last thing she wanted was for her son to impose on the American; although they hadn't really talked about it, she couldn't imagine he had plans to stay in the UK long term.

"He said he'd teach me to play American football!" her son reminded her—he was correct, of course. Over dinner the subject of sports had come up and Steven had asked if their guest played football. He'd said he had, but it quickly became apparent that they were talking about two entirely different sports and the arrangement was made that Steven would happily teach Mr Gibbs 'proper' football if the other would teach him the American sport of the same name.

"So I did," Jethro replied to the boy's outburst. His tone and manner remained easy.

"I'm sure Mr Gibbs is heading home to the States soon," Alice told her son, casting an apologetic glance in their visitor's direction. "I'm sure he doesn't have time...?" she hadn't intended to make it a question. When Jethro said he'd teach her son about American football, she'd really thought he was doing it to be nice. Surely he didn't actually mean to follow through...

In response to her unintended question, however, Gibbs merely gave over a shrug before turning to Steven. "I'll tell you what, _if_ it's ok with your Mom—and if I can find a real football," he added with a wry grin, "maybe I can come back on Saturday."

Alice blinked at him.

"A Marine never goes back on his word," he told her, no doubt having noticed her startled expression.

"Please, Mum…?" Steven begged.

"Well… I suppose… but… are you sure?"

"Like I said," Gibbs told her again. A Marine never went back on his word…

"All right. I'll walk you to the door," she offered—before taking his leave, Jethro extended his hand to her son and told him he'd see him on Saturday. Alice was sure it had been a long time since she'd seen Steven smile quite like that.

"Thank you," she said quietly, stepping out onto the front porch with her guest. "His father… he hasn't exactly been much a part of our lives since he left and my Dad… well… I know he'd like to be around more… but… it's hard."

Gibbs didn't answer, he just dug his car keys out of his coat pocket.

"Please don't think less of me for that," Alice found herself begging. She didn't even know why she cared what he thought.

"I can't imagine what it's like having a father whose immoral, who can't die," he said the words so much more easily than she ever had been able to, "or who never seems to get any older. But I do know what it's like to lose a child," he admitted. His tone was… sad. Immeasurably sad.

"You have children?"

"Had."

"I'm sorry," said Alice. His tone made it painfully clear that his children were dead.

"It was a long time ago."

"But you're not over it, are you?"

"I'm not sure anybody ever gets over something like that."

Alice nodded. She thought again That Week, the 456, everything they had almost all lost. Everything she could have lost if her father hadn't found another way... if he hadn't insisted that there had to be another way. She shuddered at the memory of that horrible man, Dekker... it was like he'd wanted to sacrifice Steven, just to see what would happen. "May… can I ask what happened?" she said at last to the man standing in front of her.

Gibbs shrugged. Hesitated. Then, finally: "My daughter and her mother were murdered. Kelly was about Steven's age." His tone gave Alice the impression it wasn't something he was comfortable talking about.

"I'm sorry," she repeated her earlier sentiment, not knowing what else to say. He was doing a good job of keeping a straight face, an even tone, but she could see the depth of pain in his eyes… it was the same pain she saw in her father's eyes sometimes. It made her wonder how much hurt it him every time he left her house. He never knew when…if…she would let him come back… was she really being that cruel? That unfair? _Am I doing the same thing Mum did? _Did her father really deserve it? She knew he was right, Steven was too young to notice his apparent agelessness, but someday he would, someday she'd have to explain… but in the meantime was it really right to keep them apart. She knew how much Steven loved his 'uncle' Jack. "I… I don't know what to say," she confessed, as much about her own thoughts as anything else.

"Nothing to say."

She offered up a tight lipped smile. "I… I suppose I'll see you on Saturday."

He nodded, "I suppose you will."

"Well… good night."

He nodded, said good night and walked towards the curb… a moment later he drove off, leaving Alice standing on the porch alone with the night sky.


End file.
